Another Truth and Dare Cliche
by Cacow
Summary: The nations get together for an after meeting party, and to stop the night ending young on a dull note, they decide to play dares. In need if your input. Please R and R. I promise this will be worth your while, if a little different!Rating may change.
1. The Game Is On

_Dear Readers,_

_This story desperately needs your input. If you like the idea, and wish to see it continued it will need you to review or PM me with your ideas post haste. I have seen many stories written similar to this, so the idea is most certainly not mine, however, as much I have liked the idea for fan fictions such as this, the actual execution of them has been...below par. I understand that the form or writing in an role playing format appeals to some, but it doesn't appeal to all, and a piece of literature of this theme is therefore in need of creation. I apologize for the exceedingly large author's note but it is necessary. The following content will be an introduction to set the scene, and from there on in, it is up to you, the reader to contribute your ideas. Remember reviews for dare ideas are desperately needed. Once you have read the short introduction, state the dare and who you wish to get it. :)  
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><p>It was dark outside. The unnatural glow of the street lamps reflecting on the wet tarmac surface of the ground, made the quiet street look slightly eerie and sinister. However, the street was not important. Nor the appearance of the large house that was situated on it.<p>

The important factor, or factors rather, were the current occupants of said house. The multiple countries were currently crowded around a bottle, some lingering at the edges of the attempted circle, not wishing to be dragged into the nonsense that was about descend on the present nations.

No one was quite sure who had made the suggestion. The night was running slowly and coming to an end, much to America's distaste. He was not only the host of the party, but the Hero! And a Hero's party couldn't be crap! It had to be something people would remember the next day, and talk about for years! That being so, when people started to excuse themselves with half-assed and barely thought out excuses, he put up a protest and promised that the night would pick up. From the depths of the gently lit room, a suggestion for a game of "Spin the Bottle, Truth or Dare" could be heard. Antagonists or perhaps protagonists, if you will, from all corners nodded and murmured in agreement. Who was our host to disagree with the masses?

And so America searched for an empty bottle, which were present in abundance, and called everyone together. Deciding he should, as the host, be the first to spin and thus dare someone, did so.

The bottle circled quickly and started to slow... Finally it stopped. People smirked, and awaited the first dare and it's consequences.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, mon_ Angleterre! _This will be fun, oui?"

America's eyes lit up with malice and joy, and the dim light glinted off of his glasses. Revenge would be sweet! He watched England's reaction, and was surprised to see no fear in his eyes. Rather, he watched as the British nation scornfully eyed the bottle with suspicion and kept any emotion hidden. Then he smirked, his eyes lighting up.

"I pick _truth,_" He practically whispered, his words only carrying across the room due to the silence of expectation.

Leaning back, in a relaxed manner, he watched as there was a collective sigh of disappointment.

"What? You didn't think I was about to make a fool of myself in front of what is practically the entire globe, did you? Utter bollocks, I tell you." England smugly stared America down.

Murmurs of "spoil sport" and "No fun" rippled across the room, but England ignored them.

America ignored them too. He glared at England, nostrils flaring in exasperation.

"Fine, fine. Be like _that_. You're no fun," America pouted, his eyes narrowing into slits as he thought. England flicked up an eyebrow, the tension in the room increased. Or at least, it would have, had anyone been interested.

"Bite me." England retorted.

"I already have darling."

There was an awkward moment of silence. America's face filled with blood and his face became red and hot.

"That was not me. I didn't say that!" He spluttered, hands held up in denial.

"Well, like, obviously."

England bit the inside of his cheek. Obviously one of his ex-lovers (lovers being a misnomer, as it was just as often hate) had to try and embarrass him. Running his tongue over the cut he'd just made on the soft pink flesh of his inner mouth, he quickly moved the subject away from his…promiscuous years.

"Your question, America?"

Frowning, America let curiosity rule his head, and blurted his thoughts out, like a very much regrettable fountain. "Exactly how many people in this room _have_ you slept with during my colonial years? Please don't tell me you ever did it in our house…"

England's face drained of colour, and France snorted with laughter. "Oh mon ami! You have no idea! I remember one night, little Amerique wondered in on us, tears in his eyes- "

"Shut your frog hole, pig!" England snapped, his face considerably paler than two seconds previous. He continued on to impersonate France's grating and snort filled laugh.

" One, that doesn't even sound like me and two, that was the worst insult ever. You're losing tyour touch! Stop being upset because you're the biggest slut in Europe. "

"_Was._"

"EW, England, in our bed?" America whined.

"What do you mean _our _bed? I think you'll find, young man, you mean my bed!"

Prussia stopped cackling in the corner for a minute to have his very awesome say. "You gonna answer the question or not?"

England growled. "This is ridiculous. I'm leaving."

It was at this point, America tackled him.

"No. No! You have to answer the question!"

"Humph! Get off me you lump! How's this for a question, how much do you weigh fatty?"

"Oi! You're just jelly of my rippling muscles! It's not even my turn!"

England pushed ineffectually at America's shoulder, wheezing. "Fine! Get off of me!"

America rolled off of England.

"Jesus Christ America! Stop throwing your weight around!" England looked down at his crumpled clothes, brushing them off, as America scooted away. When he looked up, everyone's eyes were on him.

Scratching the back of his head and looking anywhere that didn't have a set of eyes boring into him, he muttered under his breath. "Let me think…"

"Maybe it would be easier to for you to list the people you haven't slept with, si?"

Several nations laughed. England did not take well to that, and massaged his temples.

Germany, sick of the nonsense, decided he should take matters into his own hands.

"Right," he barked. "Raise your hand, ja, if you slept with England while America was a colony."

Multiple hands shot up.

"What counts as "sleeping with him"?"

"Sexual intercourse, obviously." Germany answered, trying to be brisk and business like, all the while blushing.

"Ve…Germany looks like a tomato. I'm hungry."

"Shhh…"

England buried his face in his hands.

A few hands hesitated then lowered… and then raised once more.

America scanned the room. "You're kidding? That's… Oh my lord."

Francis chuckled. "England had game, did he not?"

America blanched. "I think I was sick in my mouth a little…" He murmured.

"On that revelation… I think I'll be leaving." England made to stand, but America pulled him down again.

"Nuh-uh, it's your turn to spin." He ordered.

"I hope I get you…" England smiled, reaching for the bottle in America's hand.

"Woah! Don't touch me you sex pest!" America yelled, trying to make a joke of his embarrassment and England's humiliation.

"Not funny." England snatched the bottle.

"I thought it was," Canada whispered.

"Did anyone hear that?"

"Hear what?" England asked, spinning the bottle.


End file.
